song of silence
by emberin
Summary: And in that silence, the heart screams in agony; only she hears the song of anguish. Spoilers for Dual Destinies.


song of silence

An Ace Attorney fanfiction

DISCLAIMER: Ace Attorney and its characters belong to Capcom.

* * *

Panic. Fear. Anticipation. Sadness. Anger.

_Tension._

The air hangs heavy with the whispers of the spectators that are filing into the courtroom. She can't really hear whole conversations – there are far too many of those going on at the moment - but she can hear words, if she pays close enough attention. Except she doesn't want to, because all she hears are hurtful words. Scary words. Awful words.

_So b__loody _–

– _how unfortunate _–

– _that poor girl _–

– _how could he _–

– _obviously guilty._

So she tries very hard to stop listening, and focuses on other things instead. The judge and his gavel, the figures in suits on either side of the courtroom, the pairs upon pairs of eyes staring from around the benches. She's sitting among them too, but they said to her that she would have to go up there at some point and talk about what she remembers, from that little semicircular platform in the middle. That's a thought that she also wants to ignore, but there's a man standing by – the bailiff, they called him; he reminds her of that fact, too.

They asked her before if she would like to sit outside, but she said no. She needs to be here. Something is telling her that. Or more like calling her to stay. She doesn't know what it is, it's more like a gut feeling.

The gavel slams down, and the words and feelings begin to fade into silence. A voice begins to speak, in a very serious tone; it's a lot easier now to follow along with how one person is feeling. She pays attention to the words being said, although only vaguely. She doesn't really understand all of it, but she's not a stupid girl, either. She knows that this is a court of law, and that someone will be called guilty for… for killing her mother, they said. And that they took Simon away right after they found her. Where is he, she asked, only getting the answer that she would see him again today.

They think he did it, but she knows that the Simon she knows would never do that. Kind and considerate Simon, who always greeted her with a soft smile and gentle words? Of course not. She has to tell them.

She watches as one of the doors opens, and Simon is walked in. His wrists are now locked together with giant chains and his eyes look dull, without the light that she used to see when he came to play with her. As he walks in, the whispers of everyone around her hum very faintly in the background, but it unsettles her and gives her the shivers. And all of this just leads her to a single conclusion:

There is no happiness in this room.

She can't hear it in anyone's words.

One of the figures in suits stands up and begins to speak. She listens, although she can't concentrate on what is being said either – partly because she doesn't know all of the words being said, but also partly because the words _sting._ It hurts to hear them because they're so full of pointed accusation, of suspicion, of distrust. And it's pretty clear what – or who – those words are directed to. But she doesn't want to listen to those words, so it's easier to just think that she can't actually understand them, and then the pain lessens. A little.

And so this continues. People walk up to the little stand in the middle of the room, the figures in suits stand up and sit down… all of the words coming out of their mouths barbed and vicious. She tries very hard not to listen, but even the hum of the court continues to buzz more loudly than before, like a kettle starting to whistle from the steam. Soon enough, she can't even hear the words; they became lost in the sea of emotions in the courtroom, each wave crashing down upon her more and more heavily than the previous, as the trial progresses.

She looks down on her lap, at her hands that are slowly clenching at her clothes. It's too much to look at the rest of the courtroom now, let alone pay attention. If only this could all be over –

– and then, silence.

She looks up to see Simon at the stand. All the spectators have suddenly slowed their murmurs, the distrust in their hearts reducing to barely a whisper. The judge raps his gavel on the bench in front of him, and the remaining voices dissipate. Still, she makes little effort to listen to the words being spoken; they'll probably hurt anyway, she tells herself, so there's no point in trying.

But the familiar voice begins to speak, and she finds herself gravitating to the comfort of that familiarity –

"Yes, I am confessing to the crime. I killed Dr. Metis Cykes."

No, this can't be true. Why is Simon admitting to this… when it's so clear that he's not the one who did it? She looks around. Everyone is whispering again, the hum this time feeling less distrustful but almost approving. But why? Can't they hear that he's lying?

It's written all over his voice. He didn't kill her mother. And she knows better.

"He didn't… he didn't," she says to herself, affirming to herself that the truth that no one else seems to know, because at least she knows this for sure. She begins to grasp at her clothes again, refusing to listen to the words of everyone around her. She concentrates on deliberately not listening, because hearing everyone agreeing with this lie hurts just as much as all the spiked words they were saying earlier, if not more. She knows he didn't do it.

She knows.

She knows.

Her concentration is so focused on not listening to words that she doesn't notice the bailiff trying to get her attention until he touches her arm. At the gentle tap, she looks over at him, and he tells her that it's her turn to go to the stand. She almost doesn't get up, scared by the thought that suddenly everyone would whisper about her, but then she realizes that this is her chance to tell everyone that Simon isn't telling the truth, as strange as it is that no one else seems to see that.

She doesn't know why. She wants to ask him. But they have to know the truth first.

The bailiff leads her up the platform, and she steps up. She looks around, the eyes of all the spectators now on her. The judge asks her who she is, and in a quiet voice she answers that she is Athena Cykes, eleven years old. When they ask her to, she slowly tells them what she remembers of that day – very little, to be honest. She tells them what she does remember, and hopes that it helps. They thank her for being brave enough to give witness, whatever that could really mean… but it sounds like they approve of what she's said.

As they lead her off the stand, she looks over at the side, where Simon is sitting. But something isn't right. The whispers of the court seem a lot happier now, and even though Simon looks more… relaxed, something feels wrong. His heart is still crying out the exact opposite of what he said before. This isn't right at all. She has to fix this.

She turns and runs back to the stand. They don't know what she does, that has to be the reason why.

"Wait!"

The judge, from his chair, looks down at her and asks what she wants to say.

"Simon… Simon didn't do it!"

The figures in suits on both sides immediately start yelling. It hurts to stand there and hear all of it, all of their anger coming at her, but she knows she can't run.

"Please, you have to listen to me!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the bailiff coming towards her. Quickly, she says the rest of what's on her mind, something that for some reason only she can hear:

"He didn't kill her! His heart is screaming that he didn't kill her!"

But they're empty words to everyone else, and her arguments are lost in a tide of confusion that sweeps over the entire courtroom. She yells, she calls out, but it's no good. The bailiff comes and grabs her, pulling her back to her seat. Everyone is talking, the hum no longer a hum but a screech, shouting out for justice. But she knows he's not guilty, so she has to say so at least. Or try to. And she's trying, but it's not working.

No one's listening. No one believes her.

She sits down at her seat again, and she just lets the chaos come at her instead of shutting it out. It's over. And she's scared to speak up again, anyway. It's not like they understood her the first time, and trying again would just cause her to lose her voice while everyone else is yelling over her. It's easier to just stay silent, and it's too much effort to shut it all out. She's lost all the energy she had before.

So she hangs her head and tries not to look up at anyone, because seeing them angry would just make everything worse than it already is. It's hopeless. She can't even bring herself to look around, it hurts that much. She can't make herself heard, let alone try to save Simon. She still doesn't know why he's so openly lying about what he didn't do, and why no one else seems to hear what she does.

One last time, she looks over at Simon, hoping that he'll see her and maybe even give a smile. He looks up, and he sees her looking at him – and he smiles, briefly. A smile that's kind of like the one she's used to from him, but also not really at all, and that confuses her. Especially when his heart says he's happy, but also sad, which doesn't make sense. Why is he happy when they're calling him guilty? Isn't that something people are usually sad or angry about?

But the smile vanishes as he turns and nods to the bailiff, who leads him again to the stand. A few more words from the judge and then –

"Guilty."

The words being said around her are filled with relief and satisfaction, but in Simon's silence she hears only anguish.

* * *

My first foray into writing for a very long time... thanks to FireEdge for a bit of a kick-start (in a way) and to awin for being an awesome beta.

-emberin


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